


Any Case is the Worst Case

by orphan_account



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Hanzo doesn't have his dragons, M/M, Mission Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-28 22:26:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10840728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "Most likely scenario, I die, but you don't."Hanzo stared at him.





	Any Case is the Worst Case

**Author's Note:**

> So Hanzo doesn't have his dragons before the events of this fic, and he and McCree hang out sometimes (drink, talk, shoot, etc). Enjoy :D}

“Most likely scenario, I die, but you don’t,” McCree said, resigned. He adjusted his hat and looked around the abandoned warehouse they were camped out in.

Hanzo stared at him. “Am I supposed to stand aside and let you die? There must be another way.”

“I’ve looked at all the outcomes, and the chance a’me gettin’ outta there alive is real slim,” McCree said.

“That can’t be. We would not have been sent if we were to die,” Hanzo replied. 

“I die, sweetheart. You get out, get to live your life. ‘Sides, Winston didn’ know what he was sendin’ us into when he did it,” McCree said.

“You expect me to just...go on and live my life after you die?” Hanzo asked. “I’m supposed to just move on?”

“Well, if I’da known ya were gonna make such a big deal bout it, I wouln’a brought it up,” McCree said.

“Of course it is a big deal. We are...we are friends, are we not? Friends are upset when they lose each other,” Hanzo admitted.

McCree was shocked. Of course, he had privately considered them friends, but he hadn’t wanted to infringe upon Hanzo’s boundaries, so he never said anything.

“R-right, I jus’, uh, thought you would be happier ‘bout gettin out alive.” McCree scratched his beard anxiously. He really had hoped that Hanzo wouldn’t have cared as much as he did.

“You are a ridiculous man,” Hanzo said. McCree chuckled.

“A ridiculous man that is gonna go to sleep. Gotta be rested for tomorrow,” McCree grimaced.

Hanzo hummed in bitter agreement.

~-~

Hanzo slung his bow over his shoulder and tied back his hair. He watched McCree strap on his chestplate and holster his gun.

“Are you sure it is wise for us to go? It is not too late to retreat,” Hanzo said.

“Better me than a bunch of innocent citizens,” McCree mused, more to himself than to Hanzo. It hurt Hanzo to see how McCree had accepted his fate, however reluctant he truly felt. Hanzo wanted to hold McCree and keep him from getting hurt ever again.

“Let us go then,” Hanzo said with false neutrality.

~-~

McCree was right. There was no way he was getting out of there alive. The sheer amount of Talon soldiers was too much for just the archer and gunslinger, however talented they were. McCree ran down an alley and reached for his last flashbang.

He threw the flashbang at the four agents behind him and fanned the hammer into their chests. They fell and hit the ground, but McCree didn’t stop. His chest ached from running; Angela was right, the cigars he smoked would be the death of him.

Hanzo followed from the rooftops, picking off agents as quickly as possible. He watched McCree run, and hit a dead end.

Hanzo watched in horror as at least twenty agents closed in around McCree. He watched McCree draw power from the sun, in his High Noon attack, but it was useless. Only six agents fell, and more quickly took their place.

If only Hanzo hadn’t lost his dragons the night he murdered Genji. 

Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to try.

Hanzo drew his bow, aimed into the crowd, and cried out “RYUU GA WAGA TEKI O KURAU!”

To Hanzo’s utter surprise, the blue spirits roared and tore their way out of his skin. The prickle of electricity filled the air as the dragons spiraled through the soldiers.

McCree, who had been shooting the last of his ammo into the crowd, looked up as the dragon spirits reached him. They circled him, and Hanzo prayed they would not hurt him. Instead, they spoke to Hanzo.

“You have chosen well. He may help you restore your honor,” one of the spirits said.

“We will see that no harm comes to him, for now,” the other said.

Hanzo thanked them as they returned, burning through his skin. He clambered down the side of the building he stationed himself on and ran to McCree.

“Mind tellin’ me wha’ just happened?” McCree said. He looked small, despite the five inches he held over Hanzo.

“I...called upon the dragons to save you,” Hanzo said softly. “I could not stand to see you killed.”

“But... I thought you said you couldn’t do that anymore,” McCree pointed out. Hanzo looked down at the ground.

“It seems that I was desperate enough, and they thought you worthy of rescue. They said… they said you might help me to restore my honor,” Hanzo said.

“Well, that’s quite a responsibility,” McCree joked. Hanzo looked alarmed and apologetic. McCree hurriedly added, “Not that I mind, o’course, I jus’ never thought I’d be worthy o’something like that.”

“Why not?” Hanzo asked.

“I’ve done some messed up stuff too, Hanzo,” McCree said. “And you’ve made it clear many times that yer better than me.”

“I did not mean to erase your history, I only thought that perhaps you might think more highly of yourself,” Hanzo said.

“Ya callin’ me stuck up?” McCree laughed.

“No! No, I think you are too harsh on yourself,” Hanzo corrected.

“Well, darlin’, I gotta be better than you at somethin’,” McCree said halfheartedly. 

“I understand why you were not so upset at the thought of dying,” Hanzo said, “but you should consider those that care about you. Fareeha, Angela, Genji...me.”

McCree stared at Hanzo in awe and astonishment. Then he lurched forward and hugged him. Hanzo sunk into the embrace; he tentatively put his arms around McCree.

“Sugar, I’m sorry I put you into a situation like that, I shoulda thought abou’ what I was sayin’, I’m sorry, I love you--”

Hanzo pulled backwards. McCree realized what he had said and backed away.

“Oh shoot, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to--”

“Do you mean it?” Hanzo interrupted.

“What?” McCree asked.

“Do you mean it?” Hanzo repeated.

“I...o’course, dar--Hanzo. I get if ya don’ wanna, y’know…”

“Shut up.” Hanzo closed the gap between them and pressed his lips to McCree’s. McCree melted into the kiss, responding hungrily.

They came up for air, breathless. McCree touched his lips as if he could not believe that had just happened.

“Darlin’, what was that?” McCree asked carefully.

“I love you too,” Hanzo said quietly, so McCree could barely hear him.

“Oh. Shoot. Wow. Golly,” McCree muttered. He reached back out to Hanzo. Hanzo looped his arms around McCree’s waist and kissed him again. McCree hooked his arms around Hanzo’s neck and kissed back.

“Come on, Jesse, we have to go back,” Hanzo said. McCree swore he could have died happily right there at Hanzo using his first name.

They walked together, hand in hand, back to their warehouse, where the airship would pick them up.


End file.
